“Sorry,” Willow muttered darkly, not looking sorry at all.
“Where did you find it?” Maggie reached out to take the coat off Jack.
“Washed up on the shore of the lake,” he said. “Rufus and I were out taking our morning walk. He led me down a path and there it was, washed up on the shore, none the worse for wear.”
Willow scowled at Rufus who had the decency to look mournful. “Stupid dog. You couldn’t have just kept on walking, could you?”
Maggie turned the coat over in her hands. He was right, it was in remarkably good condition considering it had spent the night at the bottom of a lake. No rips or tears; it was as shiny as the day Dot had first brought it home.
“Thank you for bringing it back,” she said to Jack, then turned to go back inside the house. She hoped he would take the hint and leave.
“Rufus,” her dad piped up. “That’s a terrible name for a dog.”
Jack sighed. “So people keep telling me.”
“I told him he should have called it Apollo,” said Willow.
“Now that’s a name a dog can be proud of,” agreed Ray. “That, or Shadow,” he mused. “I’ve always thought if I had a black dog that’s what I’d call it.”
“Lucky we never got one then,” said Willow.
“Don’t be so bloody cheeky.”
“Don’t swear,” said Dot and Maggie.
Jack looked from face to face in amusement. Then he looked over Maggie’s shoulder at the big old house behind her.
“What an amazing house,” he said. “I’d love to see inside.”
Maggie’s mouth dropped open at his audacity, which was a shame because she was too slow to close it again and answer, so her father got in first.
“Come on in lad, I’ll give you a tour.” Ray was very proud of the house he’d worked hard to buy and had owned for almost fifty years.
Collecting herself, Maggie smiled a warning at Jack behind her father’s back.
“I’m sure Jack has other places to be and other people to annoy,” she said.
“Nope,” Jack said, “just here and just you.”
Then he swept passed her with a grin and followed Ray up the porch steps and into the house.
Maggie watched him go, dumbfounded at this sudden turn in events.
“You’ll catch flies,” remarked Willow.
Maggie snapped her mouth shut.
Rufus gave a little whine and looked up at them woefully out of his big brown eyes. His ears drooped and he gave a heavy sigh.
“I’ll just stay here and look after your dog shall I?” Maggie yelled after Jack.
Jack’s head appeared back in the doorway. “Oh he’ll be fine,” he said. “He won’t go anywhere.”
“Can I take him fishing with me?” Willow asked.
“No,” said Maggie.
“Sure,” said Jack at the same time.
“She’ll be gone for hours.”
“I don’t mind hanging out here until she’s back. That is, if it’s ok with you?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Of course it is, you can stay for lunch,” said Dot, at the same time.
“Know anything about quad bikes?” Ray, who had appeared back in the doorway beside Jack to see what the holdup was, asked. “It’s started making a funny clunking noise.”
“Not a thing,” Jack said, “but I’ll take a look.”
‘I’ll whip us up some cheese scones and a quiche,” decided Dot. “And maybe a cake if there’s time.”
“Have you lot lost your mind?” asked Maggie. “We know nothing about this man.”
Her parents frowned at her.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t extend our hospitality,” said Dot.
“Don’t be so rude,” Ray said to Maggie. Then he turned to Jack. “Sorry about that,” he said, “we raised her with better manners but the older she gets the more she seems to forget them.”
“Dad.”
“What? It’s true.”
“You guys are weird. I’m off,” said Willow. She slapped her hand on her thigh and whistled at Rufus, who looked to Jack for consent.
“Off you go,” he gave it.
The dog seemed reluctant but nevertheless he trotted over to Willow’s side and headed off with her down the driveway.
“Be careful,” Maggie called.
“Don’t forget to catch me a big one,” Ray called.
Willow waved back over her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I don’t know what you two are playing at but you can just it stop right now,” Maggie frowned, turning to where her mother had been standing twenty seconds before. She was gone, and Jack and her father had disappeared back inside the house. She was alone in the driveway talking to herself. She kicked a pebble viciously then flinched as it bounced off the front of the house, narrowly missing a window.
“I’ve got to stop kicking things,” she sighed to herself, heading into the house. She dumped the coat in the laundry to be washed later. There was no sign of her father or Jack, but her mother was in the kitchen measuring flour out onto a pair of old green kitchen scales and humming happily to herself.
“Can I add some hemlock to that mixture?” muttered Maggie, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table and leaving without waiting for her mother to answer. She headed to the room she had transformed into her little shop at the back of the house. As well as the internal entry it had its own external door, so that customers didn’t traipse through the house. Opening the door she stepped inside and closed it behind her, and immediately she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. She took a deep breath and shook her arms out, twinkling her fingers, shaking the stress from her body.
“Much better,” she said then she took a big bite from her apple, enjoying the loud sound of the crunch echoing in the quiet solitude of her room. She walked over to the small stereo in one corner and flicked the on switch. It was set to the local radio station, to Willow’s disgust, as, according to her, it played a selection of ‘ancient’ and ‘uncool’ songs. However Maggie enjoyed them, and humming along to the one that was currently playing she walked over to the tall bench she used as her counter. It came up to just above her waist and was heavy, solid wood. She’d found it dumped in a skip outside someone’s house, and had became its proud owner after knocking on the front door and asking if she could have it. Sanded down and given a few coats of varnish, it had come up looking like she’d paid thousands of dollars for it. The bags with the unsold soaps from last night’s markets were on the counter and she started to unpack them, stopping only every now and then to take more bites from her apple.
She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn’t hear the door open, and it was only when she turned around and bumped into him that she realised Jack had entered the room.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked taking a step back, frowning at him for invading her space.
“I’m lost, sorry. I was looking for the bathroom but I must have misheard your father’s directions.” His eyes scanned the room and its contents. He wandered over towards one of the shelves and started reading the framed cards with pictures of each different kind of soap and explaining what its benefits were.
“What exactly did my father say?”
“He said, ‘up the stairs and last door on the far right. You can’t miss it’.”
“Oh I see. This is you being funny again is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“This room, as you well know, is on the ground floor and is at the back left of the house.”
“Ah. My mistake. He obviously meant the other right,” Jack grinned.
“Idiot.”
“Now that’s just not nice. Your father’s right, your manners do leave a lot to be desired.” He turned back to the soaps.
Speechless, Maggie resorted to poking out her tongue and stomping a foot hard on the floor. Unfortunately he turned at just that moment, catching her.
“You
know,” he said, “you do like to express yourself in a most interesting way.”
“Shut up.”
“No I’m serious. It’s rather fascinating.”
“Well I find you insanely annoying and I wish you hadn’t come here. In fact why are you here? Wasn’t I clear enough last night?”
“Oh perfectly clear. I came to return your daughters raincoat, remember?”
“But why are you still here? I told you, I’m not interested in going out with you. Not to dinner or anywhere else.”
“I know. And don’t worry, I’m not interested in going out to dinner with you anymore either.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes at him, suspecting another joke.
“You’re not?”
“Nope.”
“You’re not here to try and get me to agree to go out with you?”
“Nope.”
“But, yesterday, and last night - you were so insistent.”
“That was then. I’ve moved on now.”
She crossed her arms and leant back against the counter. “You’ve moved on.”
“Yep.”
“Fickle aren’t you?”
“Hey, I know when a man’s beat. I’m no sucker for punishment.”
He had picked up one of the cards and was studying it closely.
Maggie couldn’t understand why this change in attitude left her feeling a little deflated. It wasn’t that she liked the man, quite the opposite. She could only guess it was because for the first time in a long time she had felt wanted. She had enjoyed the thrill of being chased, albeit briefly. It was just a shame she hadn’t enjoyed the person doing the chasing.
“Well that’s good,” she said. “I’m glad you finally got it through your thick skull.”
“Ouch, I’m glad too. My ego couldn’t take your compliments.”
She walked over to the door and opened it, standing to one side.
“I have work to do,” she said, in a clear sign of dismissal.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” he walked over and stood a little too close than was polite. His eyes looked into hers like he was trying to read the instructions stamped on her heart, and she could feel his breath, hot on her face. It made all the little hairs on her arms stand up and tingle. She shivered.
He noticed.
“Here,” he said softly, and she felt parts of her body that had been dormant start to awaken. He pressed something into her hands, and the shock of his fingers touching hers caused her to gasp as if she had just submerged herself into a cold creek on a hot day. He smiled and left, and she slammed the door closed behind him and kicked it, despite her earlier promise. It took a minute for her breathing to slow and her heart to beat at its normal rate. She looked down at what he had given her; it was one of her soaps, creamy white with purple flecks. She sniffed it. Lilac. Even though she knew exactly what it would say she crossed the room and picked up the card he had been reading.
‘Purple Lilac – widely considered to be a harbinger of spring. If you are experiencing the first flushes of a love affair, bathe with this beautiful soap and it will greatly enhance your exhilarating and beautiful new emotions. Be warned though, you will be unable to contain yourself from declaring your new love, so use only if a declaration is considered appropriate’
What the hell was he playing at? She put the soap back where it had come from, but not before smelling it again. As well as the lilac there was a trace of something else; his scent still lingered, she realised. It hinted at sandalwood and mint, earthy and woody tones.
“First flushes of a love affair my ass,” she muttered. “One second he says he’s moved then the next he’s giving me soap with a meaning like that? Stupid man. Makes no sense.”
She carried on muttering along the same lines as she attempted to go back to unpacking the soaps, but when she realised that she was mixing them all up, she threw her hands up in frustration.
“Damn him,” she said, knowing it was Jack that had left her so flustered.
“Well I guess there’s no point trying to work today,” she decided, and she switched off the radio and left the room. She was hoping to avoid everyone but as she walked through to the living/dining/kitchen area her parents and Jack were all there, seated around the table and chatting as if old friends. Her mother really wanted to impress, Maggie noted. The table was set with a jaunty red and white checker tablecloth and bowls of fresh whipped cream and saucers of jam adorned the top, as did matching plates and cutlery. Maggie briefly wondered how her mother had managed to find a matching set; the drawers and cupboards in this house were so stuffed full with an assortment of crockery and cutlery acquired over the years that it was rare to find two pieces the same.
“Darling,” her mother said, oven mitts protecting her hands as she held a tray of hot, steaming scones straight from the oven. “I was just about to come and fetch you.”
“Thanks, but I’m going out,” Maggie answered, grabbing her keys from the hook by the front door.
“I thought we would all have a nice lunch together, get to know our guest a little better” her mother said, raising her eyebrows and nodding sideways towards Jack.
“I’m pretty sure I know all I need to know. Besides, I’ve lost my appetite.” Then she left, letting the screen door bang shut behind her.
Dot sighed and looked apologetically at Jack.
“Was it something I said?” he asked.
Chapter eight
“He thinks he knows everything and that he’s oh so irresistible, but worse than that, he thinks he’s better than everyone around here,” Maggie fumed, as she nursed a cold coke and dangled her legs off a tall bar stool.
Her friend Harper was behind the bar, pretending to wipe the counter top for her bosses benefit, but really just consoling her friend.
“He sounds like a giant pain in the ass,” she observed. “I hate men who think they know everything.”
“What I don’t understand is why he keeps hanging around? I’ve made it perfectly clear I can’t stand him.”
“Perhaps he’s one of those men who get off on the thrill of being rejected?”
“Maybe. He seems slightly smarter than that though.”
“Perhaps he thinks he can win you over then, are you sure you made it crystal clear?”
“I told him I wouldn’t date him even if he was the last man left alive on earth.”
“Right. But did you say it like you really meant it?”
“Of course I did.”
“Well then honey, I don’t know what his problem is,” Harper declared. A man came up to the bar for a refill and she quickly served him then turned her attention back to Maggie.
“So is he just passing through do you think?”
Maggie sighed, cupping her chin in her hands and resting her elbows on the bar.
“Who knows,” she said. “I hope so.”
“Is he good looking?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m just curious.”
Maggie pictured Jack. She was reluctant to admit it to her friend, but he was good looking, although not in the conventional way. There was something about the dimensions in his face that weren’t quite right, but it worked for him.
“I guess so,” she admitted reluctantly. “If you’re attracted to that sort of guy.”
“And what sort of guy is that?”
“Blond, tall, blue eyed. But don’t forget arrogant, self assured and supremely confident.”
Harper stopped wiping and frowned, “Wait, what did you say his name is again?”
“Jack Cartwright.”
Harper turned to where her boss Wade, owner and operator of the bar and who also happened to be her boyfriend, was stocking one of the fridges.
“Wade baby, where have I heard the name Jack Cartwright before?”
Wade put the last beer inside and closed the door then he got up and dusted off his knees. “I think that bit of the counter is clean enough sweetheart,” he tease
d, letting Harper know he was on to her. She flicked out at him with her cloth and laughing he grabbed her, holding her hands down at her sides and kissing her.
“Get a room you two,” someone hollered.
“Ahem,” Maggie coughed after a minute, when it seemed like they had forgotten to surface for air. They pulled apart and Harper pretended to straighten her hair.
“That,” she pouted at Wade, “is workplace sexual harassment, and I would like to remind you that I could have you arrested for that.”
“Be my guest, I’ve always wanted you to lock me up in handcuffs,” he grinned.
Maggie groaned. “You two are so sickeningly in love,” she complained. “
“Sorry,” Harper said to her friend, and she did feel a little bit bad. Ever since Jon had left, leaving Maggie high and dry with a young Willow and no income to support herself, she had been itching for her friend to find someone new and have the same kind of happiness she had. But Maggie had never shown any interest in anyone of the opposite sex, focusing only on Willow and building her business.
“It’s ok,” Maggie said. “It gives me hope that not all men are no hopers like Jon, or conceited know-it-all’s like Jack.”
“Oh right,” Harper remembered her earlier question. “Baby, do we know a Jack Cartwright?”
“Know him? No. Know of him, yes.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“Not at all. From what I hear, he’s made quite the impression already.”
“On who?”
“Locals,” Wade said, “both the two-legged and the four-legged variety.”
Maggie frowned. “What are you on about?”
“He’s the new Veterinarian in town. Moved here to replace old Bob Hawkins who’s retiring.”
“Oh no,” Maggie covered her eyes with her hands and started moaning.
“What’s wrong?” Harper asked in alarm.
“That means he’s not just passing through,” Maggie wailed, “he’s here for good.”
“He’s really got under your skin hasn’t he,” Wade observed. “Sounds to me like someone maybe has piqued your interest a little?”
“Don’t talk crazy,” Maggie said. “I’ve already said I can’t stand the guy.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” said Harper.
A Roast on Sunday Page 6
